disorientation
by hagakrure
Summary: disorientation - he was so used to having dreams about eyes that were blue-grey in colour; it shocked him when the gaze that stared at him was no longer like the sea, but like celery - al/will [resubmission]


**most of this is non-canon, just loosely based off some scenes. I did take about one line straight from the book, but don't expect this to follow the actual plot.**

**so, yeah, al/will, one of my guilty crackships. i did it for the vine. hate is not appreciated.**

**EDIT | I noticed alot of errors in here that were bugging me, so this is a re-submit.**

* * *

Why hadn't he chosen Amity when he had the chance? His stomach twisted into a thousand knots at the memory of his blood sizzling among those coals made his stomach lurch.

_-It's going to be alright,-_ he told himself over and over as he fell through that abyss, onto the net.

He was Albert and he was brave.

* * *

He wasn't Erudite at heart. He got told he was meant for them, but it never felt right.

He wanted something more, something different.

His hand jerked out, over to the coals and he relied on the thundering applause of the Dauntless to drown out his parent's sobs.

He avoided their tear-filled gazes as he shuffled over to his new faction.

He was Will and he was brave.

* * *

That night was one of the first nights Al had spent in a room with other teenagers – they seemed nice enough, for the most part.

However, he was preoccupied with one of the transfers - an Erudite boy with eyes like celery and shaggy blonde hair, an Erudite boy whose smile was almost as if his life was trouble-free.

And when the Erudite boy flashed that carefree grin his way, Al almost felt a pang of jealousy.

* * *

He had managed to befriend the two girls who slept in the beds to his left and right – Christina and Tris, he had learned.

Christina seemed to be made of long legs and wide smiles and star dust - then and there, Al decided that she seemed to hold the universe's bliss in the palm of her hand.

There was also the seemingly fragile Abnegation girl who was brave and bold and everything he was not and he admired her; and, oh god did he want to be like her.

But, he was plain old Al, and he was weak.

* * *

Pain. That was all Will had registered as a fist collided with his jaw. Next thing he knew, he was on his back, faces staring down at him - mixed expressions of worry. Four, Myra, Al - the boy who had knocked him unconscious. Al was the worst, eyes wide, lip quivering and Will questioned if he was truly Dauntless.

He seemed to belong in yellow.

That didn't stop Will from harbouring an interest, even if a small one.

* * *

Eyes wide, hands trembling, Al stared down at the now unconscious boy - the one from Erudite, the one with the celery eyes. His name was Will, he learned. He also knew that Will had memorized a map of the city for fun and that he himself was the one who made Will like this.

And maybe, just maybe, Al was beginning to feel some sort of attraction.

* * *

The night after, Al found himself clutching at blonde hair, lips pressed against his - greedy, hungry - as hands snaked around his torso. Al pulled away and moved his lips to the other person's neck, kissing down to their collarbone. The person let out a groan, their grip tightening.

Yet, the groan that escaped his partner was nothing like how he expected Tris' voice to be - because it didn't belong to her. It was rougher, deeper.

And when he looked up, he found that it wasn't Tris' stormy blue that gazed back at him, but rather a shade of green.

Like celery.

That scene appeared regularly in his dreams from then-on.

* * *

The stats didn't lie. That's what he had told Tris during the time they had spent shooting targets.

So, according to the stats, this boy - Al, the one who had knocked him unconscious and beat himself up over it no matter how many times Will accepted the profuse apologizing - should have hit the target at least once by now - even if it were an accident.

But Al was clumsy, and soon Will found the Candor boy standing in front of the target, eyes wide, lower lip trembling - an exact depiction of the time Al had knocked him unconscious.

And Will didn't question Al anymore - he wasn't meant to be here.

* * *

'I'm really, really sorry Will'

Those were the words that often spilled out of Al's mouth, almost like a broken record and Will contemplated ways to keep him quiet.

He could ask for him politely to stop apologizing; to tell him that it was fine, he forgave him.

He had already tried that, however - and it changed nothing.

He could threaten him - but he was not Peter, that wasn't an option. Sarcasm? Out of the question.

_-It's to shut him up, nothing more-_

And so Will grabbed Al's collar and smashed his lips against the others.

_-Simply to keep him quiet-_

Needless to say, Will was shocked when Al hesitantly returned the gesture, placing his hands on Will's shoulders.

And yet all Will could think of was lemongrass and sage for weeks on end.

* * *

Al avoided him and when they did bump into each other, they both acted like nothing had happened.

Al was broken. He was bitter and angry and anxious and tired. Oh, he was so, so tired.

The final rankings were published. Edward got stabbed in the eye and next thing he knew both him and Myra were gone.

His own rank wasn't spectacular either.

All he wanted was to make everyone proud, but he had already failed the moment he jumped off that train.

* * *

-Help us, or by god we will kill her right in front of you-

Those were the words Peter had hissed, Drew standing by his side, brandishing a knife.

Much sharper than the one used on Edward.

And oh god, oh god had he fucked up.

He didn't know they were going to touch her, and he didn't know they were going to kill her.

* * *

Tris scowled at him, her hands balled up into fists and he recognized that look - that look of pure loathing.

-Stay away from me- she had snarled, her eyebrows knitting together. -Never come near me. If you do, I swear to god I will kill you, you coward-

And he looked to Tris' left and right. Christina was staring at the floor, hands shaking, biting her lower lip. Her eyes were glistening, and she was shaking - trying to hold back the tears.

Yet, apologies kept falling from Al's lips.

-Are you kidding me?- Will had snapped, hands on Tris' shoulders, mouth set into a scowl, -You don't get to ever go near her again-

* * *

He swallowed - bile, it tasted like - as he stared back at the rocky waters of the chasm.

-You can't afford to be weak-, Al told himself. Once. Twice. Twenty times.

But how could he be strong? Weakness was all he ever knew, it was part of him.

He wasn't made for Dauntless, he never did belong here - but then again, he never knew where he belonged.

Squeezing his eyes shut, a shaky breath escaped the boy's lips, which then turned upwards into some sort of wry smile.

-_Oh god, I'm sorry-_

He stepped forward and he fell.

_And all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put humpty together again._

* * *

He came just in time to see people gathering around the chasm and he wondered what the hell had happened - then he heard the whispers,

-D'ya think he tripped?- a boy next to him asked, elbowing another with bright blue hair.

-Yeah, sure, he w's tyin' his shoelaces 'nd just, I 'dunno, _fell into the chasm? _Be real, Blake-

Blake frowned, crossing his arms across his chest. -I s'pose you're right, at least one initiate does it each year-

Wait, what?

Wasting no time, Will pushed his way through the crowd, right to the front.

Just in time to peer over, and see the body._  
_

_Al._

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and judging by the look on Christina's face, the way her easy smile faded - she knew.

He had to force his lips to move,

-Get Tris-

And off Christina ran, the tears spilling down her cheeks.

* * *

He didn't move. He didn't feel a thing.

Not after Christina ran back, a rather shocked Tris in tow.

Not after they hauled Al's body up, not when they couldn't fit him into the body bag - he did side-eye Tris when she let out a somewhat hysterical laugh.

Not after the funeral, where Eric announced Al's death as bravery - and Will had never felt more queasy.

And it took a week for him to break, for him to wake in the middle of the night and scream and sob until kingdom come and there was Christina's arms around him and he wondered, why, _why was he so upset by this?_

* * *

And he kissed her. Right by the train tracks.

It felt wrong, but he had to forget, right?

Yet she didn't respond, so Will just let his hands drop to his sides and acted as if nothing happened - and Christina complied, moving alongside him, chatting about ice cream and pet dogs and Will's knowledge of the city and god knows what else.

Until she leaned up, took his face in her hands and kissed _him._

And he returned it and almost everything was perfect.

The only thing missing was the scent of lemongrass and sage

* * *

**ah yes the resubmission**


End file.
